Page 17 of Where Dreams Begin


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Before Catherine could respond, Rafael flung open the door and yelled, “Fight!”

Nick, Max and Polly bolted for the door, as did the other teens in the hall, but Luke still managed to sprint by them. Catherine was reluctant to follow, but then, believing the situation might call for a cooler head than Luke possessed, she forced herself to go on out into the courtyard.

Dave Curtis was already there, but he was too busy struggling to keep the fight from escalating into a brawl to break it up. Kids who had been sitting out front on the sanctuary steps were streaming into the courtyard, but the shouts and cries echoing against the stone buildings were already deafening.

Catherine had seen fights at school, but this wasn’t a pair of surly boys who had gotten into a scuffle, these were girls. Sheila was a tall, thin African American whose dreadlocks bounced wildly about her head like Medusa’s snakes. Frankie was short, but the blonde sporting a buzz cut was solidly built. Both girls wore overalls, and each used the other’s straps to haul her opponent close for a vicious slap and then hurl her away.

As the girls pummeled and kicked each other, a red-haired boy near the office building took bets. Other kids were screaming encouragement to their favorite, while some just shouted colorful curses. Volunteers, who had been sorting clothing in the Sunday school building, ran for the parking lot, while Pam Strobble stood on the office steps writing down names in a notebook.

“Break it up!” Luke shouted as he shoved his way through the crowd. He took an elbow to the eye as he grabbed for the back of Frankie’s overalls, but he managed to push her away and form a muscular wall between her and Sheila.

“There’s to be absolutely no fighting here at Lost Angel,” Luke announced in a voice loud enough to carry clear down the block. “Both of you know that.”

Sheila raised her fists and danced around like a boxer ready to go another round. “We weren’t fighting. I’m just teaching the bitch not to hit on my man, Jamal.”

“Liar. Who’d want that creep?” Frankie screamed back.

Polly moved close to Catherine. “We have fights here all the time, but those two are scary. I just keep clear of them.”

“Smart girl,” Catherine responded. Dave Curtis was on the opposite side of the crowd. He caught her eye and smiled, but she could do no more than nod in return.

Luke called over to Pam. “How many fights does that make for these two?”

“This is the second in two weeks,” Pam replied, “and they know our rules.”

Luke still looked ready to bite off the girls’ heads, but he waited a long moment for the crowd to hush before he spoke. “You go on in and shower, Frankie, then get out of here. I’m suspending you until Thursday, and if you’re ever in another fight, you’ll be banned from here for good.”

Frankie flung an accusing hand toward Sheila. “She started it!”

“I don’t care who started it. We have a zero tolerance for fights. Now hit the showers. As for you, Sheila, you’ll sit there on the steps and keep Pam company until Frankie leaves. Then you shower and go until Thursday. I don’t see Jamal. Where is he?”

“I ain’t seen him for days,” Sheila replied with an insolent shrug.

“But he’s worth fighting over and losing your privileges here?” Luke asked.

“Yeah, he’s my man,” Sheila insisted. “You keep away from him, you hear me?” she called after Frankie, who ignored her and entered the hall.

“Go on and s

it down,” Luke ordered. “The rest of you better scatter before I ask Pam to take your names.”

“She’s already taking names!” the red-haired boy cried.

“Then don’t give her the chance to write yours down twice. Can you handle this, Dave?”

“No problem, boss,” Dave swore. “Come on kids, let’s try out the new soccer field.”

With the excitement over, the teenagers left the courtyard in twos and threes. Max, Nick and Polly went back inside the hall to continue sorting the books, while Catherine waited for Luke by the door. As he approached, she could see his left eye had already begun to swell.

“We ought to put some ice on your eye,” she offered.

Luke paused on the step below hers and their eyes were level. “Now you’re an expert at first aid? I swear our application isn’t long enough to list all your skills. I doubt it will help much, but let’s go on into the kitchen.”

Catherine followed him to the freezer’s double doors, then had to wait while he unlocked one. “I hadn’t thought about working in the kitchen when you brought us here on the tour, but it was fun.”

She turned away to get a bowl from under the counter to hold the ice and then grabbed a clean dish towel from off the stack by the sink. “Mabel has everything so beautifully organized that anyone can walk in and go right to work.”

“I’ll have to remember that if I’m ever left with time on my hands,” Luke replied, his tone teasing.

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